Spooks

Anyone following this blog should know by now that I not only read books written for adults but also some written for "young adults" and children.  (I'm thinking the term "juvenile fiction" is probably going out of style because of the connotations of the word "juvenile.")  I just finished reading The Spook's Tale and Other Horrors by Joseph Delaney, one of the series (for older children, not quite young adults?) titled The Last Apprentice.  This series concerns the supernatural adventures of a young man, hundreds of years ago, who is apprenticed to a "spook", someone who battles witches and demons and evil creatures of many kinds.  The books in this series are all dark in mood and setting, but the stories are all compelling and chilling.

Somehow I'm reminded of the series of horror/supernatural/mystery novels for children written by John Bellairs.  When our daughter was growing up it was a family tradition for several years to get every new John Bellairs book that came out, and each member of the family would read it.  In contrast to the Last Apprentice series, the books by John Bellairs are set in present day, and are not as grisly, but there is plenty to capture the imagination.

Nonlinearity, and Life as an Adventure

In the early '70s, while I was in high school, I discovered a series of books in the public library called "TutorTexts."  Each of these books taught you a particular subject through what was called "programmed instruction."  Each page or two would introduce a new concept and test your new knowledge by asking you a question.  Depending on your answer, you would be guided to one of two other pages in the book.  If you were right, you were rewarded by picking up the subject from the page number for the right answer.  If you were wrong, you were guided to a page that explained why.  Then you would be steered back into the training again.  It was a nonlinear way to read a book, because a reader's journey could take many different paths, and none of them went in perfect linear order from the first page to the last.

When my daughter was young she enjoyed reading the "Choose Your Own Adventure" series and the "Time Machine" series of children's adventure books.  The concept in these books was very similar to that used by the TutorTexts.  Based on the storyline presented to you, you would periodically have to make a choice about how you - as a character involved in the story - should act.  Depending on your choice, you would be guided to a new page and the story would pick up from there.  Unlike TutorTexts, however, it was possible to get to the end of one of these books and actually fail to save the world, or die at the hands of monsters, or the like.  Then you had no choice but to go back through the book and try to make choices that would lead you to the successful ending.

"Life is an adventure" is a cliche that is not universally embraced.  There are times when I wish I had the freedom to more easily steer that adventure.  Certainly there are always choices to be made, leading to successful or not-so-successful outcomes.  But if I could really "choose my own adventure," I would have less uncertainty to confront in life, and be able to enjoy the journey, knowing that I didn't have to worry so much about the destination.  After all, we usually don't get to go back through the book of life and try new choices if we find that our recent ones lead to failure.  What happens is that we learn from our choices, our mistakes, and use what we learn to make better decisions in the future, but the sum of all these decisions is still a journey that can't be repeated.  That puts more pressure on making the right choices the first time around.

Precocious Reading

Back on July 16 I posted about the positive effects of reading to very young children.  I just bumped into a blog that deals directly with this: "Raising Readers, Writers, and Spellers" at Psychology Today.

Rivers of America

I recently picked up a used copy of Peter C. Mancall's Land of Rivers: America in Word and Image.  This is a collection of writings over the past few hundred years that describe the place of rivers in America's history.  The essays and excerpts are accompanied by a number of incredible photographs and artwork illustrating America's rivers.  There are pictures of floods and baptisms and waterfalls and commerce, from 17th century woodcuts to photos by Ansel Adams.

This book reminds me of the Rivers of America series of books that were published (and republished) from the 1930s to the 1970s.  Each edition in this series of over 60 books is a historical narrative devoted to a single river.  Many of them are familiar - the Ohio, the Mississippi, the Hudson, and others - but I have to confess that some of them I had never heard of before.  The Housatonic?  The Sangamon?  And where the heck is the Winooski?  There for a while I thought I would start collecting this series; I have a weakness for series of books, especially if they deal with history, or the outdoors.  But shelf space is at a premium in my house, so I decided to forego this pleasure.

Of Shadows and Mist

I have a habit of reading a number of books in parallel.  But when I discover one that really grabs me, I'll stick with it and quickly finish it.  Such was the case in 2005 when I decided to try Spanish author Carlos Ruiz Zafon's The Shadow of the Wind (rating: 10/10).  In Barcelona in 1945 a boy discovers that someone is methodically destroying every book ever written by an author named Julian Calax.  The mystery behind Calax's true identity grips the boy and won't let go.  Ruiz Zafon does a fantastic job of characterization and really kept my interest.  Few books that I read do I ever rate so highly.

The Prince of Mist by Ruiz Zafon (rating: 8/10) is a much different book but still very enjoyable.  This is a relatively short horror novel for young adults.  The author states in an introductory note that he hopes the young adult books he's written will appeal to readers of all ages.  The Prince of Mist did appeal to me, and I finished it quickly.  Like The Shadow of the Wind, the story takes place during World War II.  To me, there was the barest hint of the movie Summer of '42 - wartime setting, a beach, adolescents trying to understand their feelings for the opposite sex.  And the evil behind the story reminded me of something I would expect Stephen King to write, were he writing something for young adults.

My bookshelf also holds this author's adult novel The Angel's Game, and I'm looking forward to that one as well.  Once again the author turns to Barcelona as a setting, and books play an important role in the story.

Portable Genius

The "Portable Genius" series of guides by Wiley are well-designed resources for anyone owning an Apple product.  As esthetically pleasing as Apple products are in design, guides for Apple products should be just as well-designed, and this series does not disappoint.  Glossy pages, step-by-step instructions, color screen-shots, and a casual style of text contribute to a comfortable and rewarding experience in finding the information you need.

When I added a MacBook Pro to the household I picked up a copy of the guide titled Switching to a Mac: Portable Genius. I've used Mac's in the past, but the Macintosh has gone through a lot of changes over time, and I really wanted an easy way to start making the most of my new machine.  Switching to a Mac gave me just the answers I needed as I learned my way around the MacBook Pro and the Leopard operating system.

Inspired by the quality of Switching to a Mac, when I bought my iPad I bought a copy of the iPad Portable Genius.  This volume is another useful member of the Portable Genius series.  Though I'm well into understanding what all I can do with my iPad, this book is showing me things I might not have picked up on.

When I finally get an iPhone, I'm going to buy - you guessed it - the iPhone4 Portable Genius!

Prometheus Road

Bruce Balfour is the author of science fiction novels The Forge of Mars, The Digital Dead, and Prometheus Road.

The Forge of Mars (rating: 7/10) concerns mysterious artifacts found in caverns on Mars.  I read it in 2004 and noted that while it had a few too many characters to keep track of, I found it interesting that it had so many themes in it, including Navajo culture right alongside virtual reality and AI (artificial intelligence).

Scientist Tau Wolfsinger and archaeologist Kate McCloud, the main characters of The Forge of Mars, also appear in The Digital Dead.  "Virtual versions of the dead control the desires of the ones they've left behind."  I tried to get interested in The Digital Dead but couldn't, and wound up abandoning it in 2006.

But for some reason I thought I'd give Balfour another chance.  I just finished Prometheus Road (rating: 7/10).  Like the previous two books, virtual reality and AI play key roles, but this is not Wolfsinger's and McCloud's world.  This world is a post-apocalyptic landscape governed by gods with control issues.  The lead character, Tom Eliot, must face these "gods" in order to free the land of their control.

Now here's the curious thing.  I'm tempted to give The Digital Dead another chance.  There's some precedent for that with me.  It wouldn't be the first time I've done it.

So Many Books, So Little Time

When I was in tenth grade I decided to start keeping track of the books I had read.  Initially this was simply an index card file.  Years later it became a spreadsheet on the computer.  And a few years ago, I moved years of records into a fantastic computer program called Book Collector, from the smart people at Collectorz.com.

Book Collector allows me to keep track of what I've read, what I own, what I've loaned to others, what I have ordered, what I would like to read someday.  About 18 months ago I used it to generate the following statistics.

As of February 8, 2009, I had read 2238 books (about 59 per year).  I owned 1139 books, but of those I had only read 367.  That meant that at the rate I read, if I stopped buying books (yeah, right) the unread books I own would last me 13 years.

But then I took it further.  I assumed I'd live to be 80 and continue reading at the same rate.  If that was the case, I should only buy a new book every 12 days or so (30/year) to break even (have read everything I own) by the time I die.  At which point my lifetime total would be about 3800 books.

So if I only have 1500 more books I can squeeze into my lifetime - the ones I own that haven't yet been read and the ones I will wind up buying - how will I prioritize what I'll read?  Or buy, for that matter?

Locus

Locus.  No, not the bug - that's "locust."  This is "Locus, The Magazine of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Field."  The August 2010 issue showed up in the mail today.

If you want to know what's going on in the science fiction & fantasy publishing industry, this is the magazine to read.  It covers everything from new books coming out to obituaries of noted authors to news on publishing mergers to legal battles.  I especially like to see what's new that's coming out.  But over the past few years this has included a large number of vampire, werewolf, and zombie-themed novels.  With the exception of World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War (rating: 9/10), I don't do vampires, werewolves, or zombies.  Another trend that I don't (and may never) appreciate is that of sci-fi/fantasy/romance crossovers.  I wish I had a nickel for every time I've re-shelved a book in Borders after seeing that it had romance in it.  Just not my cup of tea.

So what is?  Patrick Rothfuss, author of the fantasy novel The Name of the Wind (rating: 9/10), is featured in the lead article in the latest issue of Locus.  Like many other people, I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Name of the Wind and only wish the next book in Rothfuss' trilogy would come out sooner.  The Name of the Wind has no vampires, werewolves, zombies, or romance.  (Some might argue with me on the "romance" part - there is a component of a love-story - but it's not what I think of when I think of romance.)  Also, sitting on my shelf waiting to be read is the anthology Swords & Dark Magic: The New Sword and Sorcery, edited by Jonathan Strahan and Lou Anders.  That one I expect to thoroughly enjoy as well.

From Musashi to Ochiai

In order to make room for new books, I frequently sift through my old books and see if I can get rid of any (usually by selling them at Half Price Books).  Considering whether I should get rid of Hidy Ochiai's translation of and commentary on Miyamoto Musashi's Book of Five Rings, my thoughts traveled in several directions.

First, A Book of Five Rings.  I read this quite some time ago and liked it very much.  Using warfare as a metaphor for competition in business resonated with me at the time.  But 28 years later, with 28+ years of business experience under my belt, I'm no longer interested in that metaphor.  And though I respect Sensei Ochiai, I didn't gain much from his annotation.

Second, training in washin-ryu karate with Sensei Ochiai.  It has been a long time.  Though I progressed to purple belt (yon-kyu, one belt below brown and black), I would have trouble remembering any but the simplest of katas now.  But Sensei Ochiai was someone we all respected greatly.  It was not only for his skill, or his association with some of the biggest names in martial arts (such as Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris).  It was how he carried himself, and his demonstration of what training and self-discipline can accomplish.  I remember how nervous I was the first time he tested me for a belt!  And even more so, what it was like to practice sparring with him.

Sensei wrote two books that I will definitely keep in my library, as they are important reminders of that period of my life.  They include The Essence of Self-Defense and Hidy Ochiai's Living Karate.  But I'm going to give up his annotation of Musashi's classic.

The Magicians

Lev Grossman's The Magicians.  How would I describe it?  Take Harry Potter and make him older, an anti-hero.  Take Hogwarts and make it far more serious, even perhaps a tad sinister?  Throw in a land like Narnia, but not quite so benign.  And then imagine giving Stephen King license to create some Evil.

I finished The Magicians quickly, partly because it was an engrossing read, partly because I was stuck in a plane on the tarmac for hours, and the next day stuck in an airport for hours.  This is not a book for kids by any stretch of the imagination (and this book does stretch the imagination).  It takes on some big themes head-on, particularly the notion of searching for happiness.  I was reminded more than once of the expression, "Be careful what you wish for - you may get it."

The Used Bookstore Experience

Over the years I've visited and frequented a large number of stores selling used books.  I've found that there are certain characteristics that can make for a not-so-pleasant expedition in search of literary treasure.

• If the aisles are too narrow, I can't back up enough to be able to easily scan a shelf of titles.
• If the lighting is poor and I need a flashlight to read the titles, I get very annoyed.  There's a bookstore in Melbourne, Florida that has very narrow aisles and poor lighting and I won't be going back.
• If the books are not arranged logically, or only partly arranged, I don't have the patience to poke through them.  One store I know organizes the books into categories like art, religion, transportation, etc., but then doesn't bother to alphabetize the books by either author or title.
• If I have to find a ladder - or heaven forbid a worker licensed to climb a bookshelf ladder - I'm going to look somewhere else unless I'm pretty desperate.

I realize that there may be treasures overlooked because others also don't like narrow, unlit aisles of poorly arranged and inaccessible tomes.  But these factors take a lot of the fun out of it all.

Finally, one of my biggest pet peeves has nothing to do with the store and everything to do with fellow shoppers.  So many people will walk between me and the shelf I'm looking at without so much as the slightest apology that if I see someone approaching I will frequently move closer to the shelf so they have to go around me.  Whatever happened to common courtesy?

Icelandic Sorcery

I've always wanted to visit Iceland.  It's off the beaten path, it has mountains and glaciers and fjords and tremendous waterfalls and an active volcano that can disrupt air travel for thousands and thousands of people.  Janni Lee Simner chose Iceland as the setting for her young adult novel, Thief Eyes, and infused the story with scenery and sorcery in a tale that draws on Icelandic history and folklore.

I enjoyed Simner's first novel, Bones of Faerie, a merging of post-apocalyptic struggle and a supernatural world encroaching on our own.  When I learned that she was coming out with another novel, I was eager to read it.  Thief Eyes did not disappoint.  Simner's books, while written for a "young adult" market, are fun to read even if you're not quite as young an adult as you used to be, or would like to be.

Discipline and Spiritual Growth

I wasn't looking for Dallas Willard's The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives when I came across it at Borders.  But two things caught my eye.  First, the cover art, showing a spray of pine needles and a pair of small cones.  Second, an endorsement by Richard J. Foster.  Because I know of and appreciate Foster's books on spiritual life, this was no trivial endorsement.

The concept of discipline is not something that appeals to most people.  We either associate it with self-discipline (can I watch my diet and keep up my exercise), punishment (as in corporal punishment), or perhaps a monk from the olden days who lived on bread and water in the desert and never spoke for 40 years.

Dallas Willard is careful to explain how we have misunderstood discipline and its place in spiritual growth.  Is it easy?  Frequently no.  Is it something that includes pain and sadness?  Again, no.  Take a look at Willard's classification of disciplines.  The "disciplines of abstinence" include solitude, silence, fasting, frugality, chastity, secrecy, and sacrifice.  The "disciplines of engagement" include study, worship, celebration, service, prayer, fellowship, confession, and submission.  Willard backs everything up with sound, Biblical theology.

There is not enough room to go into the details that Willard provides supporting why these disciplines are not only useful but critical for spiritual growth.  I encourage you to read this book as well as Foster's Celebration of Discipline.

But here is one thought-provoking excerpt for you.  Touching on the philosophy of the ancient Greeks and Romans, Willard says that the "inability of classical civilization to produce sufficient people capable of serving as the foundation of good government destroyed the Roman Empire.  Early in human development, races of people are sufficiently under the duress of real needs to exalt the virtues that can make them strong.  But after thy become strong they have no sustaining principle that will allow the further development of virtue to maintain their society.  They lack the tension adequate to maintain character in their citizens.  No stable society can, therefore, be long maintained if it is prosperous.  A transcendental principle and tension is lacking, and that is what is abundantly supplied in the gospel of Jesus Christ and his Kingdom." (pp. 127-128)

I know from personal experience that a busy lifestyle makes it very difficult to find time to practice those forms of discipline which may further my spiritual growth.  I want to say there's not enough hours in the day!  But then Willard stopped me dead in my tracks: "Didn't God give you quite enough time to do what he expects you to do?"  I think maybe God was trying to tell me something.  Within a couple of days I came across this quote from H. Jackson Brown: "Don't say you don't have enough time.  You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Theresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein."  

For further reading:
Foster, Richard J.  Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth.
Foster, Richard J.  Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home.
Foster, Richard J.  Freedom of Simplicity.

Fantasy Art

Fantasy Art Now: The Very Best in Contemporary Fantasy Art & Illustration, edited by Martin McKenna, is a collection of pieces organized by "Brawny Barbarians and Hulky Heroes," "Warrior Women and Fearless Females," "Myths and Monsters," "Sirens and Seductresses," "Witches and Warlocks," "Fairies and Fey Folk," "Scenes and Settings," and "Brawls and Battles."  I don't claim to be an expert in fantasy art, but I didn't recognize the names of any of the artists.  And a very large percentage of these pieces seemed to come from online role-playing games and collectible card sets.  I was neither inspired nor impressed.

A much better place to find good fantasy art and science fiction art is the annual Spectrum collection edited by Cathy Fenner and Arnie Fenner.  (See, for example, Spectrum 16: The Best in Contemporary Fantastic Art.)  The coverage in these volumes includes well-known artists and up-and-coming stars as well as art in many different media.  While not every volume is stellar, most are very good, and provide both inspiration and the satisfaction of experiencing quality art.

Abandoned!

Abandoned.  Such a terrible word.  It conjures up images.  A baby in a blanket in a basket at the door of the church.  The empty shell of a house no longer wanted.  A vacant lot collecting weeds and litter.  Yet it's the word that comes to mind when I decide to "let a book go."

I used to feel guilty for not reading every book I buy.  It seemed like a waste of money.  Then one day a lightbulb went off in my head and I realized life is too short to read lousy books when there are so many good ones out there waiting to be read.  It's a waste of time to force myself to read something simply because I paid for it.

My rule of thumb is to give the author at least 10% of the length of the book to hook me.  If they haven't succeeded by then, I'm done with the book. This past week I had to abandon Calvino's Six Memos for the New Millennium (see this post for reference).  It was simply too literary, too erudite, for my tastes.  At least I hadn't paid full price for it.  I typically go for the cheapest copy of a book I can get my hands on (as long as it's in pretty good condition).  That helps to mitigate the guilt of letting one go.  (And it leaves more funds for other books.)  Plus, if I can recycle the abandoned book by giving it away, selling it, or trading it, that also helps diminish the guilt.

One might wonder, why not just check books out of the library?  That would be a great solution to the risk of buying boring books if it weren't for the fact that (a) frequently what I want to read is not available when I want it and (b) I usually can't finish a book before it's due back at the library.  I read too many books in parallel, so even if I'm finishing a lot of books each individual book is taking me a good while to finish.

Once in a great while I will abandon a book and return to it at a later date and read it after all.  That's what happened with The Ruins by Scott Smith.  I gave it 50 pages and then stopped, noting "Just couldn't get into it.  A group of stupid people, and not much happening except they don't quite know what they're doing or where they're going.  So what?"  But when I tried again a couple of years later - just before a trip to the Yucatan peninsula - I got engrossed in it and really enjoyed it.

Nathan Bedford Forrest, Confederate Cavalry Leader

My great-great-grandfather, Andrew Jackson Lacy, was a lieutenant in the Eighth Tennessee Cavalry (CSA), part of the brigade commanded by General Nathan Bedford Forrest. Lt. Lacy disappeared during the war and I have been trying to piece together every known fact that might help us learn his fate. Naturally, books about Forrest describe many engagements that my ancestor participated in, and they might be able to provide new clues.

I picked up a used copy of Robert S. Chambers' The God of War: When I Rode with N. B. Forrest/The Letters of Henry Wylie, knowing that it was fiction, but thinking I might learn something new, or a different way to think about what my ancestor went through.  I've decided against reading it, however. This "historical interpretation", as the author refers to it, consists of letters written by an imaginary soldier serving under Forrest to his family, describing what he was experiencing. But in skimming the book I realized the soldier writing these letters was not in a position to know many of the details he was sharing with his family. It was as if the letter writer had access to the same books on Forrest as Chambers did when researching his book.

Non-fiction books about Forrest and the battles in which his forces fought include:

Davison, Eddy W. and Daniel Foxx. Nathan Bedford Forrest: In Search of the Enigma.
Henry, Robert Selph. First With the Most Forrest.
Hurst, Jack. Nathan Bedford Forrest: A Biography.
Jordan, Thomas and J. P. Pryor. The Campaigns of Lieutenant General N. B. Forrest and of Forrest's Cavalry.
Lytle, Andrew Nelson. Bedford Forrest and His Critter Company.
Wills, Brian Steel. A Battle from the Start: The Life of Nathan Bedford Forrest.
Wyeth, John Allan. That Devil Forrest.

Treasures of Astronomy

I just finished reading Owen Gingerich's The Book Nobody Read: Chasing the Revolutions of Nicolaus Copernicus. Professor Gingerich, senior astronomer emeritus at the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory and research professor of astronomy and the history of science at Harvard, spent decades tracking down every known copy of Copernicus' famous book De revolutionibus orbium coelestium libri sex. It was in De revolutionibus that Copernicus proposed the heretical theory that the planets - including the Earth - orbit the Sun. The reigning paradigm had been one in which everything orbited the Earth.

The stories of Professor Gingerich's scientific detective work to find the just-over-600 known copies around the world are fascinating. One has to admire not only his scholarship but his tenacity.

When I saw this book in the bookstore I was drawn to it because of some personal circumstances. Several years ago I was helping a friend clean out his father’s basement. Paul said to take anything I wanted, as it was all going in the trash. There were a number of books, most of them of no interest. But one caught my eye. It was very old, and the cover was not in good shape. The title page was missing as well. The book was written entirely in German but I was able to tell that the author's foreword was dated March 25, 1777. What was most interesting were the tipped-in star charts in the back of this small book. There is one for each month of the year, with the constellations artistically depicted. There is also one showing the orbits of the planets and one showing the face of the moon.

I couldn’t take the book – not when I suspected it might be worth something. But I did some research and discovered that the book is Johann Elert Bode’s Anleitung zur Kenntniss des gestirnten Himmels. I believe because of the date of Bode’s foreword that this is probably the third edition, as the second edition came out in 1772. Subsequently I bought the book from Paul’s father and because of its condition I had it rebound. As far as I can tell it’s not particularly valuable, but the way in which I found the book, and the artwork in the charts, is enough to make me value the book highly.

Imprinting

Imprinting in the psychological sense - not the publishing sense.

Parents are encouraged to read to their babies long before the little ones can talk or even show they're listening somehow.

So does it work? Consider the evidence ...

When our daughter Kendra was a newborn I placed her lying down in my lap and gently rocked her from side to side while I read the Bible out loud to her. When she was a toddler we took her with us to bookstores. When she was a teen (or tween?) I bribed her into reading the Narnia series by C. S. Lewis. (I bribed her by promising her I would buy her more books.)

Now Kendra is a middle school English teacher and an author of several books (The Stone Garden; Reflection; Drachen), she reads more books and buys more books than I do (if that's possible), and a Narnia-themed library has led her to the right church.

Cue the Twilight Zone theme, please!

And yes, I'm very proud of her.

Discipline, Rationalization, and Bibliomania

In the past few days I've added several more books to my personal library, despite having enough books on-hand to keep me reading for at least a couple of years if I stopped buying. My excuse? Coupons at Half Price Books!

Self-discipline is so hard. I've tried everything from budgeting book money to rationing purchases so they never exceed the rate at which I'm reading to telling myself that I have to finish the last book I bought by a given author before I buy another one by the same author.

Nothing works for very long. Here are several ways to rationalize ignoring self-discipline when it comes to buying books:

1. Wait for this hardback to come out in paperback and it will be cheaper? But this price for a used copy is cheaper than the paperback will be when it comes out! (Ahem. But not as cheap as a used paperback copy will wind up being.)

2. If I don't buy this used book now, and decide to think about it, it will very likely be gone when I come back. And then I've wasted time and gas! And contributed to global warming!

3. I'm going to buy this book someday anyway so I may as well take advantage of this price and get it now. (But by the time I get around to reading it a cheaper copy - maybe a paperback - will probably be available.)

4. Half Price Books just gave me $25 for the books I sold them. So if I turn around and spend $25 in the store, I'm no poorer than when I came in, and I have some books too! (But if you walk out with the $25, you'll have more money than when you came in.)

5. Amazon will give me free shipping if I order at least $25 worth of books. I was intending to spend $15. But I can justify spending another $10 because I'll save several dollars just by avoiding shipping! I was going to get that $10 book someday anyway ... (Yeah, and Amazon's laughing all the way to the bank.)

There's no cure for bibliomania. And I hope no one's going to find one.